When Time Stands Still
by SantiMonreal
Summary: Harry tries to cope with the phantoms of his past. Ron deals with a future that he couldn’t accept. Hermione draws bliss out of the present melancholic world. Will she succeed in making life better for the three of them?
1. Default Chapter

Title: When Time Stands Still. Author: SantiMonreal Pairings: Harry, Hermione and Ron.  
  
Disclaimer: All characters belong to J.K. Rowling, published in her books, borrowed by me, to release some of my mind's stress; and more importantly, I'm not making any money off this.  
  
Summary: Harry tries to cope with the phantoms of his past. Ron deals with a future that he couldn't accept. Hermione draws bliss out of the present melancholic world.  
  
Just in case you're wondering, the Story begins during the night of the year-end feast of the fifth year.  
  
Chapter 1: In The Tower on a Warm Summer's Night  
  
Harry couldn't sleep. His mind wandered too much, this was the first time that he didn't want to join the year-end feast at the Great Hall. He looked around the dormitories; the whole of Gryffindor tower was empty, no one was in there with him, he could even hear the sound of his own heart beating in his eardrums. Sighing, he got up and changed back into his robes, he couldn't take being alone in the tower that night.  
  
He went down the stairs that led to the Gryffindor common room and out through the portrait hole, He wasn't quite sure whether he should join the feast or not, all he wanted was to do something, rather than fret bed all night. Upon reaching the staircases, he saw the mood in the great hall, red and gold banners decorated the walls, his housemates were cheering, they were celebrating. It didn't feel right to celebrate, not now when a war has begun, not now, after a casualty, just not now, he couldn't celebrate. One of the staircases made a scratching noise directly above him, Harry looked up to see that it led straight to the astronomy tower. Maybe there, Harry thought, maybe there, I'll just watch the summer sky, It wasn't right, but it made him feel better to go up there alone.  
  
As Harry opened the door that led to the observation deck, he saw another figure leaning over the edge. The wind was playing with its flaming red hair. "Ron" Harry whispered, Maybe now he could find somebody to talk to. Harry walked toward Ron, but just as he called out his friend's name, Ron climbed atop the ledge and was now standing on it looking to the darkness before him. Ron turned and acknowledged Harry presence. The moonlight sparkled on Ron's tear-streaked face. "Go away Harry" Ron said. "Ron what are." "Just go away." Ron said firmly. "No, Ron, I won't. What do you think you're doing?" Harry replied, the struggle in his throat ever clear as it was earlier, when he thought of Sirius.  
  
"I don't want this anymore Harry." Ron said without looking back, "I can't live, like this." "What do you mean?" Harry queried, he hadn't moved an inch from where he was. "You know what I mean Harry, I can't do this, I don't want to live to the expectations of other people. It's not that I can't, it's because I don't want to." Ron brought his right hand to his face and brushed a tear aside.  
  
"Ron, let's talk," Harry said, "Come down from there." "No." "Ron, don't do this, I lost Sirius just last night, I can't stand losing my best friend too." Harry said there was a quaver in his voice at the mention of the word loss. Tears were in his eyes now; his legs were trembling beneath him as what he said just sunk in his mind, why would Ron want to end his life? Then Harry held back no longer, he jumped forward and took Ron's legs in his arms. "Ron, I won't let you do this." Harry said, "I won't let you give up; not now and not like this." Harry let go of Ron's legs and reached up to grab his hand. "Come down Ron, don't do this to me, to Hermione." Harry said.  
  
"No." Ron said again. "You have to come and get me Harry." Ron turned to face Harry again the tears were both present in their faces. "I am getting you." Harry said. "Come up here and get me." Ron replied turning to Harry. Harry quickly climbed on the edge. He held Ron's Shoulders tight, pressing Ron's right shoulder against his chest. "I'm here Ron," But there was no need for words, they both stood on the edge of the wall, looking up at the night sky. Harry smiled it was faint but still a smile; it was the first time he did after Sirius's death that it almost felt strange. Ron smiled back at the sky, but the silence between them was broken by the sound of the door closing, shocked Harry almost fell forward, but this time it was Ron who caught him. "Ron! Harry!" Hermione exclaimed, seeing them almost plummet down the side of the wall. "Are you okay?" She reached forwards helping them down. "We're fine Hermione," Harry replied, "I think Ron and I are okay now." Ron smiled a weakly again. "For a minute there, I almost wasn't, if Harry here didn't come." Ron said. Hermione gave them both a questioning look. "I was going to jump, but Harry here came and got me." Ron said. Hermione shook her head. "Are you both going down to the feast now?" she asked them. "No. I don't think so." Harry said turning to Ron, who was nodding at him. "We plan on staying here for a while." "Well, I guess you wouldn't mind if I joined you?" Hermione asked them. "I was going to ask you to stay," Ron said to her.  
  
Hermione smiled, but it was clear that something was straining her inside. "What's wrong Hermione?" Harry asked her. Hermione looked away, "Mobilarbus desk!" she said pointing her wand at one of the desks that they used for astronomy, and the tabled flew forward and landed in front of them. "Regis Camase!" she said and the desk turned to gigantic oak bed that was big enough to fit Hagrid and Madam Maxim and easily and there would still be space for Fang. Hermione turned to Harry " I thought I'd look at the stars tonight." She said before getting in the bed. "Well?" She asked them. Ron threw Harry a queried look. "Are you going to join me or not?" She asked them. Harry and Ron Climbed on the bed at either side of her. "Where'd you learn this Hermione?" Ron asked her, looking a little unsure. Advanced transfiguration, I was reading a copy of it in the library before the O.W.L.s" she explained.  
  
A moment of silence past between the three of them, Harry enjoyed the sweet intimacy of this, the scent of the moist grass from the lake, the warm summer night that held them and the eternal night that would keep them. For a moment, it was as if the world didn't exist, as if it flew away and took all his pain and troubles with it. "Nothing seems right." Hermione whispered looking still at the sky. "Why should we celebrate when the war has started?" rolled back her eyes, "When we lost Sirius in battle?" She turned to Harry, who was string blankly at the sky with his eyes now watery.  
  
"I feel as if, I am lost in a street corner, so dark that the light of the surrounding street lamps would not penetrate the darkness. Finally I find myself cowering, Dazed in the corner, and the only comfort I have is the blanket overhead." Ron said in reply to Hermione. Harry still said nothing, he did not want this to end, he wanted nothing to ruin this moment, this perfect moment, where he falling into bliss, the realization that this was just a moment and not life itself made his mouth dry, his throat was parched. Harry tried to swallow, but his arid throat was scratching him.  
  
"Maybe we should stop." He finally said. "The world is moving too fast, maybe if we stop here, maybe it would forget us and leave us behind finally in peace; I want his moment to last forever. I want to be like this with both you, in a giant bed where we could comfort each other for the rest of eternity, in one moment of bliss, than live in world divided, in a dying world consumed by ideals of death and suffering." At this Hermione turned to Harry, She took him in his arms and planted a kiss in his forehead. Ron Grabbed Harry's hand squeezed it firmly in his own. "It can't all be like that mate." Ron said, his teas obvious in his voice. Hermione turned her face to look at Ron and there too on his temple planted a kiss.  
  
The sweetness of this moment, made Harry's head spin; Hermione's kiss was warm and sweet, yet it gave him a sensation that he never felt before. Ron too closed his eyes, never before had he felt that much warmth, that intimate split second of ecstasy. Harry finally turned to Hermione, so did Ron; they held her in their arms. Hermione allowed herself to be held the warmth of the embrace that she was deprived of. Harry and Ron buried their face in her hair, in the luscious scent of roses and strawberries that suffocated their airways but they could not get enough of.  
  
"Maybe you're right Harry; maybe we should stop right now when the world is so perfect." Euphoria was in the air that they exhaled, "Maybe." Ron replied and breathed Hermione's scent once more. "Yes, just maybe." Harry echoed.  
  
To be continued. 


	2. Viaticum for Hermione

Title: When Time Stands Still. Author: SantiMonreal Pairings: Harry, Hermione and Ron.  
  
Disclaimer: All characters belong to J.K. Rowling, published in her books, borrowed by me, to release some of my mind's stress; and more importantly, I'm not making any money off this.  
  
Summary: Harry tries to cope with the phantoms of his past. Ron deals with a future that he couldn't accept. Hermione draws bliss out of the present melancholic world.  
  
Chapter 2: Viaticum for Hermione  
  
Hermione looked out of her window as the car pulled out of the parking lot on the way home from the train station. "Are you tired from the trip, dear?" Her mother called from the front seat, looking at her thru the rear view mirror. "I think so." Hermione replied, her voice tinted in depression. "Are you ill, Hermione?" her mother pressed, turning to face Hermione and feeling her forehead. "No mum, I'm fine; I just had a long trip that's all." She sighed looking out of the car window.  
  
Buildings and buses flew past her, but she paid little attention to them, what concerned her most was the afternoon sky, it stood above them, following them wherever they went. "Hermione, your father and I bought you something special before we came to get you." Mrs. Granger said. Handing Hermione what looked like a book inside a brown package. Hermione smiled, another book, no doubt, she thought. "Aren't you going to see what it is?" Mrs. Granger asked Hermione excitedly. "I think it's a book, but I'll open it later." She replied trying to sound grateful. "It's not just any book dear, it's a very important piece of history, magical history." Her father said.  
  
Hermione opened the brown bag and pulled out a very tattered leather book. The smell filled the whole car. She turned to the front page, where she saw a note from the previous owner:  
  
This is a compilation of the very ancient witches' brews from  
the wandless times. Compiled in the before the Medieval times and was  
finished after Merlin was born. This is a collection of spells from  
the past, where most of the spells are obsolete, but it is a very  
important piece of History.  
  
Hermione was astounded. She had never seen a compilation of such old magic before. "Where did you get this?" "Err. That bookstore.Flourish and blotts is it? It was the only the owner didn't want to sell it, it was the only copy the had of it, mind you." Mrs. Granger replied proudly.  
  
Hermione leaned back on her seat. And opened the book to the spells, the page had a drawing of a basil bush in it that was swaying in the wind, She looked at the spell title: "To Summon a colleague or loved one home." She read down at the simplicity of the spell, smiling to herself.  
  
The car finally stopped in front of a dental clinic. Hermione helped her father unload her luggage from the back. And went up to her room. She tossed her the book on the bed and changed into more comfortable clothing.  
  
She was about to nap on her bed when she saw that the book had opened to a particular herbal magic spell, there was a picture of dried lily of the valley. On its left, in bold old english script it read "Forget"  
  
It made her think of the night before. The evening she spent with Harry and Ron on the giant oak bed in the Astronomy Tower. What if it were true? What if they could let the world forget about them, the world would leave them behind and they would exist outside of time, where it will stand still and hold them forever in a moment of bliss, in a precious moment that would let them fall in a perpetual hole of ecstasy. Where pleasure would be the only thing that would concern them, where duty is forever absent, there would be none of that in their world. There only would be the three of them holding each other.  
  
If only Hermione closed her eyes. She imagined the feel of their breathing down her neck as the gasped in the scent of her hair. How right that felt where they lay next to each other.  
  
Hermione almost fell out of her skin; Mrs. Granger was knocking loudly on her door, "Come in, mum." Hermione said. Mrs. Granger "I came to get the laundry dear, Dinner will be ready in about an hour." "Thanks mum" Hermione let herself down on her bed. "What if?" She wondered.  
  
To be continued.  
  
Thank yous:  
  
Emma Hermione - Harigato. Thanks for your kind words. Although this fic is posted under the rating R, I don't want to offend anyone. I'm so sorry if I did, gomen. It's also posted on Adultfanfiction.net.  
  
Oceanlight - Thanks for reviewing, but I must warn you, this is under rated R (although I can make it NC-17 here). Also posted on AFF.net. I'm so sorry if you guys were misled by myself.  
  
To all those who read: Thanks! I'm trying to write as fast as I can now, It's just that I'm in the middle of several projects. Thanks for reading!  
  
My world is spinning to fast. Hehehe. 


	3. To tell a confidante

Title: When Time Stands Still. Author: SantiMonreal Pairings: Harry, Hermione and Ron.  
  
Disclaimer: All characters belong to J.K. Rowling, published in her books, borrowed by me, to release some of my mind's stress; and more importantly, I'm not making any money off this.  
  
Summary: Harry tries to cope with the phantoms of his past. Ron deals with a future that he couldn't accept. Hermione draws bliss out of the present melancholic world.  
  
Chapter 3: To tell a Confidante  
  
"Ron, are you okay?" Ginny asked him. "You seem to be a little off since this afternoon." "Yeah. I was just thinking," He replied. "About what?" Ginny asked patiently. "Nothing really, just the O.W.L.s" Ron lied. "Oh, well don't worry about it, you couldn't possibly do worse than Fred and George." She said patting Ron's back as they walked from the living room to the kitchen.  
  
Ron flinched when he heard this, He didn't want to have to live up to another 'expectation'. Ever since he was born, it was always Charlie this, Bill that and Percy this. It seemed that everyone in the family had to outdo the previous. All except Fred and George, who by the looks of it, are having the time of their life in the joke business, not to mention making heaps of galleons. He stopped before entering the kitchen. Nobody was there, Mrs. Weasley was resting in her room and his dad was still at the ministry. It was only Ginny and himself down here. Ginny took a seat at the table after getting some milk from the icebox. She tapped her hand on the chair beside her, signaling Ron to sit down.  
  
Ron took a seat beside her, watching her absentmindedly as she drank the milk and ate the biscuits that his mother had made for them to have before dinner, in case they got hungry. He watched her delicate frame move ever so slightly to eat the little snack; the graceful fingers that grasped the glass in her left. They looked like hands Ron had seen before, hands that were at his left during Charms class. Hands so, nimble, and steady, ready to take down notes from the Professor, hands so perfect, Hermione's hands.  
  
Ron sighed, loudly as he placed his folded hands on the table, resting his chin on them. Ginny worriedly looked over her brother. "You still can't be worried about the O.W.L.s," she said. Ron just kept to himself ignoring her words and watching her graceful fingers lay flat on the table in front of him. "Ron, tell me what's on your mind," Ginny said determinedly. Ron looked up to her face, and saw the worried and annoyed expression she had. He recognized it at once; it was most often used by Hermione when he talked her during charms class. "Ron!" Ginny exclaimed.  
  
"Yes. I mean no, I'm just a little tired that's all." Ginny looked at him quizzically.  
  
"Ron, I'm your sister, you can tell me," she assured him, putting her hand on top of his. The moment she did, Ron felt a thousand sensations enervate his arm. Those beautiful hands, almost like Hermione's had touched his.  
  
The rush of it all made Ron's throat go dry. He looked at her gazing deeply into his eyes, as if reading the very essence of his being. "Well," Ron said. "Ginny, I think I'm in love." Ginny's eyes widened when she heard him say this. She smiled instantaneously; and got up and took Ron into her arms.  
  
"That's so nice to hear!" Ginny exclaimed. Ron laid his head back and allowed himself to be taken by his sister. He remembered the night before, when the aroma of roses and strawberries filled his nostrils. Ginny's hair smelled of strawberries, it was almost too close, too similar, too alike. Ron's head went faint. His eyes rolled back involuntarily, he shut his eyelids and fell into her embrace. The delight of having Hermione almost there made him almost unconscious.  
  
Finally Ginny let go; Ron almost fell out of his chair. "Ron," she said, "Ron!" she yelled at him.  
  
"What?" Ron said a little shaken.  
  
"What's wrong with you?" Ginny asked him.  
  
"I'm just tired, really." Ron replied.  
  
"Well, that can wait. In the meantime, I want details, who is it?" Ginny asked him. Ron could see her pupils dilate as she spoke to him.  
  
"That's not important," he said to her, getting out of his chair.  
  
"Tell me!" Ginny said persistently.  
  
"Later, Gin. Right now, I'm going up for a nap." Ginny pouted. "Later okay?" Ron said firmly. Ginny nodded. Ron went out of the kitchen and started his ascent to the top floor, his bedroom.  
  
When he finally got there, he was greeted by the posters he had of the Chudley Cannons, his favorite quidditch team. He fell flat on his bed, without even bothering to remove his shoes. He mind wandered; did he do right to tell Ginny? It certainly wasn't wrong. Before Hogwarts, Ginny was his confidante, his secret keeper, even his best friend. But now, now, now he didn't know. Would it be right to tell her that he was in love with his two best friends? And was he gay? He certainly was not, but he wanted to spend the rest of the every moment like last night with Harry and Hermione, no one else, not even Ginny. How could you love two people so much? Is it fair to both of them?  
  
Ron tried to remember the scene from the night before, on the giant bed under the stars. The wet grass around the lake, the summer wind that brought the smell of the night, the stars and himself there with Harry and Hermione; nothing could be more perfect than that. "Nothing," he told himself in a whisper.  
  
To be continued.  
  
A/N1: I finally have a beta! A damn good beta! All hail Jennifer, she agreed to be my beta, and I must say she betas better than my college editor in chief.  
  
A/N2: She Betaed this chapter, and currently has the next one, so it won't take so long an update.  
  
Individual Thank yous:  
  
Impressed - Thank you! I intend to keep it like that with a plot!  
  
No_name_face_288- Thank you! I hope this is soon enough for you.  
  
Gx-silver- Thanks! I am trying to keep it like that, I am very ambitious and like to go against the norms of society. thank you!  
  
To all: Thank you! You guys make me smile in the present melancholic world. 


	4. Bathed In Moonlight

Title: When Time Stands Still. Author: SantiMonreal Pairings: Harry, Hermione and Ron.  
  
Disclaimer: All characters belong to J.K. Rowling, published in her books, borrowed by me, to release some of my mind's stress; and more importantly, I'm not making any money off this.  
  
Summary: Harry tries to cope with the phantoms of his past. Ron deals with a future that he couldn't accept. Hermione draws bliss out of the present melancholic world.  
  
Chapter 4: Bathed in Moonlight  
  
A/N: In the UK, the term Fag refers to a cigarette.  
  
Harry lay on the grass of the Dursley's back yard. The lazy afternoon was now at dusk and played with the light, causing beautiful shades of crimson and orange on its palette, the sky. The west wind blew past the trees, bringing with it the scent of dried grass from the park, causing leaves to ruffle, crickets were singing around him, telling him that the shadow of the night was descending.  
  
He heard the television in the living room, the news was still on, Aunt Petunia was too busy making dinner in the kitchen, she didn't see Harry lying on the ground outside the window. Dudley came out of the back door. "What are you doing here?" he asked Harry, looking down at him.  
  
"Isn't it obvious?" Harry replied flatly.  
  
"Diddy dear!" Aunt Petunia called from inside the kitchen, "Be home before dinner!"  
  
"Yes, mum," Dudley grunted, looking at the kitchen window. Harry sat up in case Dudley 'lost his way' and walked on him as Dudley walked to the far corner of the backyard.  
  
"What's a the matter Dudley, afraid you're your mummy might see ickle Diddlykins with a fag in his mouth?" Harry called over to Dudley, not minding to tone down his volume.  
  
"Shut up," Dudley said with a hint of panic in his voice. Harry stood up from where he was; Dudley was walking over to him.  
  
"Shut it," Dudley said firmly gasping Harry's arm, which was starting to hurt.  
  
"Why? Doesn't mummy know that her little bundle of lard smokes?" Harry replied sarcastically.  
  
"I'm warning you, Harry, shut it!" Dudley said gripping Harry's arm harder, making his arm go pale.  
  
"You know, I bet they don't allow smoking in the noble sport of boxing at Smelting's do they?"  
  
At that, Dudley pushed Harry, leaving him on the ground and walked away to the front lawn and onto the sidewalk. Harry lay still on the ground, with his eyes closed for a moment there, he'd hoped to be knocked out, to escape existence from Privet drive. He wanted to wake up and find Tonks, Remus, and Mad-Eye there, to escort him back to the Burrow.  
  
When he opened his eyes after a few minutes, he saw it, the same thing he saw a few nights back in the Astronomy tower, the summer night sky. He was lying on the grass, and reflected for the first time about how he felt for Hermione. She was the definitely one of the closest friends Harry had, but was it possible that she could be more?  
  
Harry closed his eyes; he imagined those ginger curls brush against the side of his face. Her perfumed hair sending a thousand sensations from his cheeks to the rest of his body; his head was dizzy, just the thought of Hermione's hair against his face made his head light. He got up and walked toward the house. Aunt Petunia didn't even look up to acknowledge his presence as he entered the kitchen, and thankful for that, Harry walked up to his bedroom.  
  
Harry was greeted by an empty cage when he got to his room; Hedwig had gone out again that night. After changing into more comfortable clothing, he went and sat on the foot of his bed, gazing out of his window, and again back at the summer sky. He saw Mrs. Figg cross the sidewalk directly below, carrying her heavy load of groceries. Her small frame walking very slowly and looking at the Dursley's house every so often; Harry knew she had been there to check on him. "I see they still think I need to be looked after," Harry muttered to himself. Before he could think of anything more on the subject, he was distracted by a white figure that was flying toward his window. Harry left the window and allowed Hedwig entrance.  
  
Harry saw a piece of parchment attached to one of his owls' legs. Wondering who could be writing this early, he took the parchment and opened it. Recognizing the penmanship quickly, Harry smiled to himself. "Hermione," he whispered.  
  
Harry,  
  
Hello Harry! I received the most intriguing of books yesterday, of  
very old magic, preceding even Merlin. I was reading through the  
pages, and I realized that most of the simpler spells could be  
performed by us, without worrying about the Ministry of Magic finding  
out. The book contains mostly potions, which are herb and spice based,  
and there are a few very simple incantations and charms. I've tried  
some of the spells and they all worked for me.  
  
Ron reckons I could go over to the burrow next week and you too as  
soon as possible. I'm dying to see you Harry. I miss you both so much.  
  
Hermione  
  
Harry read the letter a few more times. It wasn't the content that made him do it; it was that when he read it, he heard Hermione's voice in his head dictating to him what she had written in the letter. He needed to see her, to hear her voice to feel her hair against his face.  
  
Sighing, he threw the parchment on his bed and opened the window as wide as he could, trying to fill his room with the night outside. He looked at the sky, and remembered Ron's words: 'The only comfort I have is the blanket of stars overhead.' Harry thought to himself the full moon, was shinning directly at him and onto his bed highlighting the outline of the letter. "The only comfort I have is the hope that I see both you soon; the hope that hangs in my lungs is that you two will remain mine forever." Harry whispered to the stars. Harry went to lay on his bed, his head rested on something, something that smelled of strawberries and roses, it was all there in Hermione's letter, a faint trace of her. He left the parchment under his head, it was almost as if his face were buried in her hair again. The scents of Hermione's hair filled his nostrils and made his head swim, lightheaded and bathing in moonlight. Harry fell asleep in the smallest bedroom of Number Four, Privet Drive.  
  
A/N1: this was with me for a few days now; I just was too busy to upload. Sorry!  
  
A/N: I'm a little sad now, one of my favorite authors left AFF.net for good. I feel so bad.  
  
Acknowledgements:  
  
Sky?SchuylerD- I miss you! Why'd you leave? Thanks for lending me a few thoughts. I miss you! Damn it! There goes a tear!  
  
Jennifer- Thanks! You are really the best beta there is! I mean it, your kind and patient and *ahem* a lawyer. Terrific!  
  
Macy Gray- Thanks! I don't know just how much is going to tell her yet.  
  
ArchChancellor- Thank you! Of course, none of that would be possible without you guys inspiring me, and of course my beta, Jennifer.  
  
HPfreak18- Thank you! I hope this was soon enough.  
  
Lessa Solarem- Thank you! I am trying to keep it like that, letting them remember bliss.  
  
Oceanlight- thanks! I really appreciate it! I am trying to keep it different.  
  
XOX- thanks! I am so flattered; I don't know what to say. I was looking for your email addy so I could let you know when you upload... Don't worry, when I do, I will personally email you, that is if you give me your addy. 


	5. The Sky Bears Witness

Title: When Time Stands Still.  
  
Author: SantiMonreal  
  
Pairings: Harry, Hermione and Ron.  
  
Disclaimer: All characters belong to J.K. Rowling, published in her books, borrowed by me, to release some of my mind's stress; and more importantly, I'm not making any money off this.  
  
Summary: Harry tries to cope with the phantoms of his past. Ron deals with a future that he couldn't accept. Hermione draws bliss out of the present melancholic world.  
  
A/N1: This chapter is dedicated to Sky, known to many of us as SchuylerD. She was one of the greats that Fanfiction.net ever knew. The stories that she wrote are forever treasured. She is and always will be my hero. She still writes, but doesn't post here anymore.   
  
Chapter 5: The Sky Bears Witness.  
  
Harry awoke the next day to a gloomy morning sky.  
  
Dudley's birthday was today, and Harry knew that the Dursley's had something planned for their 'special boy'. He was more like a Rhino; Dudley was big enough that the stairs would more than creak when he went down to the kitchen.   
  
Harry rose from the bed; the smell of Hermione's letter was tangled in the messy mob that was his hair. He looked out the window, was it going to rain? Harry wondered. He knew that after breakfast, the Dursley's were probably going out and would leave him alone in the house. Knowing that they would probably lock him in his room, Harry thought of a clever way to prevent this.  
  
He surveyed the doorframe and his eyes stopped on the cavity that caught the lock, where the steel enters. A few moments later Harry emerged took a bit of toilet paper and stuffed the hole tightly, so that the paper would prevent entrance to the lock.   
  
Sure enough, as he entered the kitchen, the Dursley's were too busy eating and discussing the day's activities to even notice him sit at the table.   
  
"What about the boy?" Uncle Vernon asked Aunt Petunia as Harry reached for a piece of toast.  
  
"You can leave me here, I'll be fine." Harry replied, maybe they would leave him free for once.   
  
"Nonsense! Lock him in his room! We'll leave provisions to last him till tonight." Aunt Petunia snapped back at Harry. Harry knew this would happen, but now he was prepared for it, he thought smiling to himself.   
  
"What are you smiling about, boy?" Uncle Vernon growled at him.   
  
"An inside joke, sir, " Harry replied.   
  
"Only daft people laugh at inside jokes!" Uncle Vernon declared as they ate. Harry tried to remain quiet as they ate, and once he finished, he went up to his room.   
  
Harry was asleep half an hour later, when a loud knock came rapping at his door.   
  
"Were leaving," Uncle Vernon said. "Don't go anywhere."   
  
Harry just lay still on his bed holding his breath that Uncle Vernon did not find out about his little 'strategy'. Thankfully enough, Uncle Vernon left the door and locked the knob without checking it. A few minutes later, Harry heard the Dursley's gather in the living room and the main door shut. The sound of the car's engine had slowly muted away under the gray sky. Harry jumped out of bed to see if his strategy had worked, grinning to himself Harry pulled on the knob. The door did not budge. A frown had replaced his smile. Harry pulled harder, this time the door gave way; Harry was stunned, it worked after all.  
  
Thinking on what he could do, he went to the living room and turned on the television. In the same moment he put it off. There was something that he desired more than that. He looked out the window; the sky was darker than it was a few moments ago. Harry went out the kitchen door and into the backyard where he was the night before.   
  
With nothing on his feet, Harry walked ten paces and three, feeling the familiar texture of the dry grass against his soles. Harry sat down and looked up, the summer sky was dark, and worried; but the ground on which he sat was warm, an earthy smell of dried grass surrounded him. The shirt he was wearing came off at his right shoulder, allowing a breeze to enter his shirt; and shiver went down his spine; a draft went through his body; the hairs on the back of his neck and arms were standing on their ends. Harry shivered loudly.   
  
"Shhhh!" The wind hissed at him; rattling the trees that surrounded the yard. It told him to be quiet, to enjoy the moment. A flash of white light on his left, sending a booming echo with a force that pushed him down against the grass. Harry's eyes closed before a smile crept onto his thirsty lips. Harry only hoped he could share this moment with Ron and Hermione. A moment later, something cold fell on his face.  
  
The rain had come down.  
  
~~~~~~~   
  
Hermione sat on her balcony, overlooking street below, she had just sent an owl to Ron. The wrought-iron banister was cold against her skin. A flash of light came from over the city, and rain came down hard on her, drenching her. The pitter-patter of the drops played a rhythmic beat on her skin, sending sensations that pleased her unused muscles. The cars below her balcony were honking loudly; deadlock took the street on that gray afternoon.   
  
She slouched back on her wicker chair and took as much of the rain on her front side. The cold raindrops were now numbing her face. But still she mustered a smile. Her bushy hair was now subdued, and came down softly on her shoulders.   
  
The rain was now falling so hard that it bruised her lips, tarnishing them to a purple color. A beam of white light struck the building next to hers. The sound was tremendously loud and shook the foundation of the buildings that surrounded it. Hermione lay stunned on her chair. Her pupils had dilated shortly after the lightning struck, making her eyes dramatically bright.  
  
Another bolt hit the building, but now, the sound did not frighten her, she didn't hear it; she did not hear anything else. All was silent in her world. Serenity took the place of all other emotions. The car's horns in the traffic below had gone, the patter of the rain no longer played on her skin or on the roof; there was no thunder that shocked her.  
  
"It only hurts the first time," Hermione thought. "Only the first time will stun you," she continued. Once thunder blew against your ears, nothing else will stagger you.  
  
She gazed out on the busy street below, everything was moving so fast, people were running across the street in coats and umbrellas. Cars and busses filled the streets with their queues; a cacophony of colors dressed the road. Everything was busy, everything but the balcony.   
  
  
  
The only thing she heard now was the beat of her heart in her chest; she closed her eyes and put her hand over her chest, feeling the beat of her heart in her palm. "Maybe this is how it feels like when the world forgets you," she thought.   
  
"No," she said faintly. Hermione opened her eyes, "No, the world will leave me, not without Ron and Harry."   
  
~~~~~  
  
Ron lay on the grass, with his head on Ginny's lap. She combed out her brother's hair, in the paddock on top of the hill, that his family owned. He was looking past his sister's face, looking at the gray heavens.   
  
  
  
"It's Hermione, isn't it?" Ginny asked Ron. She had come up a little while ago; Ron wasn't clear on why, until she asked her question. Clearly she still hadn't forgotten his confession.   
  
Ron looked a way from the sky and turned hi view to the trees. Their leaves were a darker green now, the color of green shadows. Was he going to tell her? Clearly she was right that he loved Hermione, but he loved Harry almost equally, and he knew that he wasn't gay.   
  
"I'm in love with two people," he answered her.   
  
"Ron, how do you know you love them?" she pressed. Ron still did not look at her.   
  
"I just know, Gin," he told her. "Didn't you know when you loved Michael?"   
  
"I'm not sure whether it was love, Ron. I think it was just more of an experience," she replied. "I never really felt anything when I kissed him." At that, Ron turned to face her, with his eyes wide; there was a time that Ginny meant as much to him.  
  
"What?" she asked him. "Do I have to tell you everything?"   
  
"No. Sorry. I can't help being protective over you," he said tapping the tip of her nose; it was their little way of petting each other.   
  
  
  
"You still haven't answered me, how do you know when you're in love?" she asked firmly. Ron blushed, sending waves of crimson across his cheeks.   
  
"Ron, did you, you know?" she asked him quivering her eyebrows, blushing as well.  
  
"What? Of course not!" he said quickly, "How could you think such a thing?"  
  
"Sorry Ron," Ginny smiled playing with Ron's curly red hair again.   
  
"You know, when you share a moment with that person, and it doesn't have to be sexual, you realize that they are the one that you want to hold in your arms forever," he said.   
  
"So you spent a special moment with them?" She asked him, the curiosity in her voice was obvious as ever.   
  
"Yes."  
  
"With both of them?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Together?"   
  
"Yes."  
  
Ginny looked puzzled. Then all of a sudden, while Ron returned to face the sky, she bent over and planted a kiss on her brother's face.   
  
"What was that for?" Ron asked her quizzically.  
  
"I just wanted to kiss my brother, before he becomes a man and leaves me for two other people," she said forcing on a smile.   
  
"I'll miss you, Ron," Ginny said. Ron looked up to her. She was on the verge of tears.   
  
"What's wrong, Gin?" he asked her, taking her hand from his hair and grasping it in his own.   
  
"I miss you, that's all," she said; a tear slipped past her eyelids as she said this. "Ron, you're the only brother who really spent time with me. And now that you love someone else, I miss that care and love."   
  
"Gin…" Ginny put a finger on his lips, silencing him in mid sentence.   
  
"Ron do you remember, a day like this many years ago?" she said caressing his face. "Mum was at Diagon Alley with Fred, George, Percy and Bill; while dad and Charlie were with us?"   
  
Ron knew what she spoke of; it was the day when Charlie fell off his broom; breaking his arms and leg. Their dad panicked and forgot about them, leaving them alone in the house, while he took Charlie to the healers.   
  
"When dad left, and the storm started, It was so dark, I only had your hand to hold on to. It was the only thing that kept me safe, Ron. Even if you were more afraid than I was, you didn't cry at all, you tried to look unafraid so I wouldn't cry as much, you tried to look strong so I would be too. When night came and you held me, even if I was crying, I felt safe in your embrace," Ginny said. Her face was now tear- streaked.   
  
Ron remembered it well, but what Ginny had just said sparked something in him. He knew how she felt that night; he knew it well. It was the same feeling he had with Harry and Hermione. He felt safe in the bed, he felt safe in their arms, he felt safe. That was the moment he tried to relive over and over again in his mind ever since that night, that exact feeling in the huge oak bed.   
  
The rain had started to fall; his face was wet from his tears and rainwater. Ginny kissed Ron's forehead, Ron closed his eyes. Now the moment was complete; the only thing missing was Hermione and Harry.  
  
"I need them," he whispered.   
  
"Did you say something, Ron?" Ginny asked.   
  
  
  
But Ron did not answer her; he was floating in the moment.  
  
~~~~~  
  
Three people stared at the sky at that very moment. None knew what the other was doing, but the sky bore witness to the event. Miles apart, but hearts so close, they all looked up and stared in harmony in a moment that they shared with each other on that day, but only the sky knew this secret.   
  
To be continued…  
  
A/N2 This is the longest chapter I've written so far for this fic. I guess it isn't that long after all.  
  
A/N3: For the fans of SchuylerD, Her stories are still on www.pensieve.org. It's her site, so they will always be there.   
  
Acknowledgements:  
  
Jennifer- You're simply the best, I couldn't imagine this turning like this without you, I mean, are you a newspaper editor? I really am thankful that you are my beta, I couldn't dream of anyone better.   
  
Angeldevotee- Thanks! it means a lot that you wrote back and gave me your permission.  
  
Macy Gray- hehehe. I think so too. Young love is sweet isn't it? *sighs* I don't have one currently, that's why I can write about it…  
  
Cin- Thank you! I am going to try and finish it. I always upload as soon as I have free time. I hope I do this soon enough.  
  
Hpfreak18- Thank you! Thank you! I really am happy that you like it. Well I found out when I went to check on her author's page. I was so shocked! I too got hooked on Fanfic by her stories, it sucks that she's gone from Aff. But she still has them on the web, visit her site (refer 'A/N3') I'm sure you'll find it there.  
  
Jules- I'm happy that you're interested. I am trying to give each of them their own voices, I feel it is important in this story.  
  
ArchChancelor- Thanks! I love it that you always review, you're so kind!  
  
Sliver- I will try, I like keeping things poetic but sometimes words fail me. I agree, Sky was one of the best here. Si yo hablo, pero tamoco no hablo muy bien. Por que cuando mi abuelo murrio (ya hace mucho tiempo) no hemos practicado tanto, como cuando era vive. Si, he pensado que escribir uno en español, pero es muy dificil. Y no estoy seguro que tengo tiempo, soy estudiante de colegio. Quizas llegaria el dia, pero ahora no.   
  
Steph- Hey I know you, you also read a few stories that I review, I see your reviews there too. I'm happy that you like this… I really am. 


	6. Nocturnal Escapes

Title: When Time Stands Still.  
  
Author: SantiMonreal  
  
Pairings: Harry, Hermione and Ron.  
  
Disclaimer: All characters belong to J.K. Rowling, published in her books, borrowed by me, to release some of my mind's stress; and more importantly, I'm not making any money off this.  
  
Summary: Harry tries to cope with the phantoms of his past. Ron deals with a future that he couldn't accept. Hermione draws bliss out of the present melancholic world.  
  
A/N: There's a touch smut in this chapter, please let me know what you think…  
  
Chapter 6: Nocturnal Escapes  
  
Hermione sat in her bedroom the next day, reading the book of ancient magic. Ruffling through the pages, she noticed that the last pages were thicker than the ones that preceded them.  
  
She turned to her night table. A knife, several herbs and flowers lay on it; she had performed a dream ritual on herself the night before. She took the knife and inserted it between particularly thick pages. The pages broke into two separate pages as she slid the knife between them.   
  
"El Texto Prohibido," she said reading the heading. Several translations lay across the page. Although the text was originally written in Spanish, French, English and even Latin translations lined the page. "The Forbidden Text," she said whispering to herself while she read the translation the translation.  
  
Her eyes traveled down the page, as it would a landscape; watching out for landmarks, for important, underscored, words. "Love magic, was first written and practiced by the Sumerian scholars. However, the practice was lost to them when the High Priest deemed it as sacrilegious. The text was then translated to Sanskrit and shipped to India where the Guru of Kama Sutra finally perfected it." Hermione read to herself slowly. Her breath was tightening and her brow was sweating.   
  
"Original copies of the forbidden text were burned during the medieval times when the church considered such acts as immoral. The few remaining copies were rewritten in seven other tongues: Latin, French, Spanish, English, Sanskrit, Chinese, and the Original Sumerian. These copies were shipped all over the world to avoid discovery." Hermione had reached the bottom of the first page. She closed her eyes. The thrill of finding such text excited her.   
  
"This note was written on the very page of each:  
  
An ancient magic that knows no counter, irreversible ritual of love and bonding, olden sacraments that cannot be undone; lie written in this text. Such is the power of this text, as old as magic itself."  
  
Hermione gasped, She never imagined such a book in her hands. "The root cause of magic is desire, it lies in the heart of every Witch, Wizard, Sorcerer and Sorceress. Without desire, there would be no power. No strength to perform the simplest of spells."  
  
"A warning to he who holds this book: The moment a spell is performed, it cannot be undone. The most basic material needed in the ritual is the strength of your desire. If your desire is false, the spell is not complete and you will find yourself in a worse situation than that of which you can ever envision." The page ended.   
  
Hermione was caught in awe. She rushed the knife through the other pages tearing each apart exposing the hidden magic that lay written, hidden away from the world.  
  
Hermione lit the candle on her bedside table and burned a twig of rosemary and threw it in the bowl. Rosemary brought rest if used alone, but there were petals of a red rose in there, as well as the vine of and ivy and grape. Unknowingly, she sent a spell of lust and lustful dreams to the people who filled her mind, Ron and Harry.   
  
***  
  
Harry lay on his bed that night, thinking of what Hermione and Ron might be doing the same night. Hermione's letter lay on his bed, but the scent had faded. Only the smell of dry ink on parchment remained.  
  
He looked out his window; it was still open wide to allow him to gaze out into the night sky. The stars were brighter tonight, but he didn't care, the moon was not out, it was the moon he looked at, and not the stars. His walls were emblazoned with orange hues from the street lamps outside. He could hear Uncle Vernon snoring loudly from the room down the hall.   
  
Visions and dreams from the night in the tower filled his head. Along with his own interpretations, lust filled interpretations. His head was light. His arms were nimble. He saw glimpses of Hermione in his mind. She lay next to him on the bed, Her hair tickling his face. His head was swimming. His body was hot; He was sweating under the giant shirt that he was wearing. Panting, he took it off.   
  
His heart was beating against his chest. He could hear it in his ears; his trousers were intolerably tight around the waist. His legs, too, were hot. He got up to remove them but at the moment he tore them off his legs, he saw Hermione push him onto the bed. She lay on his side.   
  
Harry couldn't believe himself; he felt Hermione's hair in his bare shoulders, on his cheeks, on his chest.   
  
And the scent, yes, the scent of strawberries and roses filled the air that he breathed. Where did that come from?  
  
Goosebumps lined his arms and neck, but his head was hot, he was hot, his heart would not stop racing.   
  
"I need them," Harry called to the air. His eyes rolled back, into his head, breathing increased. "I'm dreaming," he said to himself.  
  
The curtain from around his open window swayed in the evening breeze. The wind entered his bedroom, blowing against his skin. It did not cool him, however, it made his body warmer, all the more. Again it entered, but now it called his name.  
  
"Harry…" The wind called, in a voice barely audible to him. Harry was still in bed. His naked legs felt the wind caress him.   
  
"Harry…" The wind blew again, this time the voice was clearer. It was Hermione's voice. Harry opened his eyes weakly, he saw Hermione at his side.  
  
"Hermione, what are…"   
  
"Shh..." the figure whispered.  
  
"What, how…" he tried to ask her, but she only smiled. The figure's arms reached forth and took Harry in an embrace.   
  
"No," Harry thought, it was impossible. Hermione could not be in there with him. She couldn't Apparate.   
  
But it was too real, the feeling of her arms around him, her embrace, her hair against his face, the thin material of her clothing between them, against his bare skin…her scent, her scent it was so real, her essence filled his mind, his room.   
  
The sensations from the presence of her body pressing against his, emanated to the periphery of his limbs, to his groin and to his organ.   
  
Embarrassed by his erection, Harry pulled the blanket over it to cover himself. The figure of Hermione smiled smiled,  
  
"Show me," she said, whispering in his ear. Blood rose to Harry's face. His ears were scarlet; half embarrassed by her request. Harry turned back to look at her, but the expression of her face had not changed, it was the same understanding and smiling face that asked him.  
  
She blinked slowly. "Show me," she whispered again, in the same haunting voice that wind used, to call him earlier.  
  
Harry pulled down his boxers and revealed his organ, fully erect, an obscene object to show to someone he loved as much as her; but it was her will that he followed.   
  
The wind blew into his room, against his naked legs and at his organ. Harry gasped. A thousand sensations passed over him. His sweating increased. Hermione still looked at him with those caring tender eyes.   
  
"Show me, Harry," Hermione whispered again in the cold voice.  
  
Harry's hand reached down to grab his organ; with the other he caressed his nipple. Hermione moved only to blink her eyes lazily as she watched him touch himself.   
  
Harry moved his hand slowly up and down his erect maleness. Keeping his eyes on her as she watched him. His other hand moved down to his stomach, and then to his pubis, caressing the hairline.   
  
Hermione moved forward, ever so slowly, and crawled on to the space next to him. Harry felt her hair on his face, her scent surround him. He turned his head aside to look at her. She smiled at him. Harry closed his eyes.  
  
When he opened them he saw Ron in the bed too, doing the same as he, pleasuring himself, while Hermione lay between them. The bed seemed too small for the three of them, but it did not matter, they were together. He reached back for his nipple; his breathing deepened; his climax was near.   
  
He turned to look at Hermione, who remained the same, still smiling, still caring. Ron looked back at him, with an understanding smile.  
  
Harry stroked harder, and faster, and in a few final strokes, it was done, the seed of life came forth, and onto his belly.  
  
The wind entered his bedroom again, Hermione and Ron were still there, but the scent of Hermione's hair was slowly fading. The wind blew harder, and his two friends vanished.   
  
Harry sniffed the air in his room; no there was nothing, not even a trace of her. They were only visions. Harry closed his eyes again and fell sleep.  
  
***  
  
That same night, Ron awoke to the smell of the dry grass, his head rested on Hermione's lap, as did Harry's. They lay on a huge blanket in the paddock, under the stars. The night air was warm, and so was the ground.  
  
"I thought we'd do this again some time," Hermione told the both of them. "Look at the same sky that we saw in the astronomy tower," she continued.  
  
"It isn't the same," Harry said. He spoke so softly, as though his voice was failing him.   
  
"Why's that, mate?" Ron asked Harry.   
  
"There's no moon tonight.," Harry replied, softly now, but the emotions weren't absent as they were earlier.   
  
"The moon can wait, right now, it's more than enough that you are here," Ron replied. He looked up to see Hermione smiling at him. Her hair was swaying in the light breeze that flew past them.  
  
  
  
Hermione moved her legs; Ron and Harry sat up to allow her more movement. She stood up; Harry stood up as well. Ron followed.   
  
"What are we doing?" he asked them.   
  
"I feel warm," Hermione replied, unbuttoning her blouse. Ron turned to Harry, who had taken off his shirt, and was getting back on the blanket.  
  
"It's hot tonight, isn't it?" He asked Ron. Ron took off his shirt as well.  
  
Hermione got back on the blanket, Her skirt was open, but not off; allowing Ron glimpses of her physique. Ron sat down next to her.   
  
Hermione lay down, and the moment she did, Ron allowed her to rest her head on his belly, and he on Harry, as Harry did the same on Hermione.   
  
A moment of silence occupied the space between them. Subdued later by the song of crickets from the grass behind. Ron played with Hermione's hair, holding it in his palm and twisting it his fingers.   
  
The night was dense and humid; the trees were but shadows against the night. Sweat was forming in Ron's chest, glistening under the starlight. Hermione cocked her head to look at Ron, who looked back at her, reading the expression.   
  
"I think I like how we were on the oak bed better," she told him. Ron agreed, smiling at her. Harry said nothing, but he turned and looked at them. Hermione crawled to Ron's side and Harry on her opposite.  
  
They lay on their sides each holding the other, half naked and half clothed; Like three little children, afraid to lose one another.   
  
"What are you thinking Harry?" Ron asked him.   
  
"Nothing particular, Ron," Harry replied weakly.   
  
"Hermione, how about you?" Ron asked her.  
  
"Shh. I'm not thinking really, I'm trying to remember this moment exactly as it is," she replied. "I wanted this to happen again soon, but we never got the chance," she said. "And now that we finally have, I want to remember it exactly as it is." She smiled at Ron.  
  
She kissed his forehead. Ron closed his eyes; again there was the familiar tingling sensation that ran across his body. She turned to face the sky, lying flat on her back, but not before planting the same kiss on Harry's brow.   
  
Ron lay on his back as well, so did Harry. Hermione's hair was in Ron's face again, and it brought with it the familiar scent of roses and strawberries. It was a familiarity that Ron had hoped to have, a scent that he longed for, at night in his room, when he dreamed. Ron saw Harry move to kiss Hermione's lips; he watched them for a while, then turned his gaze back to the night sky. No he wasn't jealous, in fact he was happy for the both of them.   
  
Ron closed his eyes. He caught Hermione's hair between his lips and later his teeth. He wanted to taste it so, he wanted to taste her so. He wanted to taste her. No, he wanted her. He wanted her, and he wanted him as well, He wanted him with her. No, he wanted the both of them, with him together.   
  
When he opened his eyes, he found her brown irises staring back at him. She smiled, and then closed her eyes and kissed his mouth, he closed his eyes as well, he parted his lips and allowed her tongue passage into his mouth. And it did, but it wanted the favor returned, and he was more than willing to give it back. He did so lightly at first, careful not to hurt her. Lust overtook him; he probed and probed and probed into her mouth.  
  
The kiss broke. Ron opened his eyes; she was staring at him with those familiar tender eyes.  
  
Ron closed his eyes. He stayed still for a moment, then, after a while, reopened them.   
  
He was greeted by the sight of the morning sun his room, the scent of the dried grass had vanished. There was no more Hermione, no more Harry near him. All that was left was the memory of the dream that was last night.   
  
To be continued…  
  
A/N1: Hey you guys! I wrote this a few days back, unfortunately, My beta's computer crashed and just got resurrected. I waited for her to email this to me edited. I just can't post unedited work here…  
  
A/N2: "The root cause of magic is desire" I read something like that in The Necronomicron (a supposedly ancient book of spells), when I was younger. I thought that maybe I'd use it sometime.  
  
A/N3:I'm so sorry for the delay of this Chapter, like I said before, I'd rather not post, than post something unedited. I find it embarrassing.  
  
Acknowledgements:  
  
Steph- Thanks! I hope this is soon enough for you. You reviewed twice, thanks, and by the way, I'm a guy, so I can't really write a good Hermione situation.  
  
Angelic_devil- Thanks, I appreciate it. I really am trying to do it properly, love ya too, as I do all my readers and reviewers.  
  
ArchChancellor- Thank you, I think I intended it to be that way sad and sweet.   
  
Macy Gray- Thanks, thanks, thanks. I'm elated that you like the writing. I have learned to love them as well.  
  
Hpfreak18- You're welcome! Her site has been experiencing a little construction lately, but I think it's done now… Thanks, I am trying to write real emotions, and I'm glad that it's translating well.  
  
Roxanne- Thanks! I'm happy you fell that way, I am trying to write it like that. I loved the storm scenes too.  
  
Sliver- Thanks dude! Claro, ff.net estuve mal ultimamente. Pero ahora ya he updated. I hope this is soon enough for you. Thanks for emailing me!  
  
Sandi- Thanks, I'm a little insecure about how Hermione's character is translating. Well I hope that this chapter isn't too smutty for you, I am still writing pathos stuff am I? I'm not so sure myself…  
  
Odessa- Thanks for reviewing, I hope this is soon enough for you!  
  
Sally- Thanks I hope you like this chapter!  
  
XOX- Thanks! You're reviews are so, well, they make light headed. I'm flattered me to your list.  
  
Sweet pup- Thanks! I hope this soon enough for you, hope you like it! 


	7. Wisps of Smoke

Title: When Time Stands Still. Author: SantiMonreal Pairings: Harry, Hermione and Ron.  
  
Disclaimer: All characters belong to J.K. Rowling, published in her books, borrowed by me, to release some of my mind's stress; and more importantly, I'm not making any money off this.  
  
Summary: Harry tries to cope with the phantoms of his past. Ron deals with a future that he couldn't accept. Hermione draws bliss out of the present melancholic world.  
  
A/N: The weird reaction of Uncle Vernon to the phone calls will be explained in the next chapter. Trust me, it isn't as it looks here really.  
  
A/N1: This is short, I had very little time to write this week, but I still came up with this; and I still hate my classes, I plan to drop them.  
  
Chapter 7: Wisps of Smoke  
  
Dark. Everything was dark. Silence. Brown eyes fell upon bowl that rested on the bedside table. Threadlike wisps of smoke climbed to the ceiling, not bothering to diffuse, but slowly, very slowly vanish.  
  
Orange hues of light sprayed themselves on the curtains that sheathed the view of the streetlamps below.  
  
Stillness. Stillness. Only stillness  
  
The silence was only broken by the haunting sound of the ticking clock that lay on the dresser. Three fifteen am. Not a soul was awake at this unholy hour. No one but Hermione Granger, who lay in her bed with heavy eyelids, but refused to go back to sleep once more.  
  
Or was there? Something called to her, a faint distant voice that the seemed to be brought from far away. Perhaps it was someone. No, it couldn't be, who would call to her? Certainly Ron and Harry knew not the secrets of wandless magic. Silence filled her room as she pondered on this thought. There it came again. Hermione's eyes flew wide open. Something was definitely happening. There again, the chimes that were on her window softly resonated.  
  
Something, it sang something, calling her, drawing her out of bed. There again, in succession, each time more audible. What was it, it called to her, it sang, the lyrics were unclear, but the tune played in her head; a haunting melody that sounded of a lullaby that would not let her rest. There again, this time she heard the words.  
  
Away, away come away with me,  
Where the grass is green and the winds blow free,  
Away, away come away with me,  
Take my hand and join in my company.  
  
Yes, that was it, something or someone was sending her this message, but who? It was strangely different. She had not read through all the pages of the book but she knew something was not right.  
  
How? She thought; how can something call to her? She shut her eyes; images of a dream filled her head. A golden meadow, in the afternoon sun, she stood alone at first, then Ron and Harry came running toward her, running down the field to meet her.  
  
"We've missed you," Ron told her, "I had a dream about you," he said smiling at her. "So have I, I saw both of you in my room last night. It seemed so real, I almost thought it was," Harry told her.  
  
"How, where? I don't understand," Hermione said shaking her head.  
  
"Neither do I," Ron nodded. "I just wanted to see you."  
  
" I've wanted to both of you so hard and it just happened." Harry told her. Hermione opened her eyes. "That's it!" she exclaimed. "The root cause of magic is desire," she told herself. She looked to her left and saw that the bowl still emanated wisps of white smoke.  
  
She sat up and peered into the bowl. Petals of a red rose, twigs of an ivy, vines of a grape and a burning twig of rosemary.  
  
The red rose is desire, the ivy sends a vision, the grape is the fruit of want and brings back the vision, the twig of rosemary brings serenity, when used together, they send dreams of desire, spells of lust, even if no incantation was recited. The strength of her want has sent the dream.  
  
She remembered it now, her little carelessness sent lustful visions to Ron and Harry. Panic took her chest, her breathing increased, and her forehead perspired. She could not have just sent Harry and Ron lustful dreams about her, visions that no doubt they saw. But what the dream holds is in the level of desire of the dreamer, she reasoned with herself, they could have been just been talking as she just saw in her dream earlier. But something in her knew that if it were up to her, they wouldn't remain talking for that long.  
  
"No," she cried to herself in a soft whisper. A blush rose to her cheeks as several thoughts of what Harry and Ron's images of her might have been. Her heart was racing in her chest, so fast and loud, that it echoed in her room. What would they have seen? She closed her eyes; her face was bright with alarm. But slowly, the frightened expression vanished as a smile crept onto her lips. Yes indeed, what could they have seen of Hermione Granger?  
  
* * *  
  
"Come in," Ron answered half asleep as Ginny knocked on his door the next day. He lay on his bed without a blanket; his legs were wide apart and was only wearing knickers. "What do you want?" he asked, as Ginny entered not bothering to open his eyes. "Mum told me." Ginny trailed off. She was distracted by a bulge in Ron's knickers.  
  
Ron finally opened his eyes. "What?" he said irritably. Ginny didn't reply, her cheeks were a bright crimson. "What is it?" he asked her crossly.  
  
"Err." Ginny looked at Ron intently and slowly traced down his body and stopped in his groin. Ron followed her eyes and was shocked that he had exposed himself to his own sister. Ron reached for his blanket and quickly moved to cover his erection. Embarrassed by what had just happened, he was determined to act as though it never took place. Ginny stood still as he covered himself. She looked at his poster of the Chudley Cannons, which was suddenly very interesting.  
  
"Well, you were saying?" Ron asked her inexpressively.  
  
"Mum wants you to be ready. Fred, George and Percy are coming over for lunch later and she wants you to help her sort things out." Ginny said nonchalantly.  
  
"I'll be with her in a bit," Ron said indifferently. It was like this since the twins left. Without anyone in the house to help her, Mrs. Weasley always called on Ron for everything; or in her words, 'our little prefect'.  
  
Ron hated this. He hated having to live up to 'The Weasley Standard'. He knew that it was expected of him to get good marks. He knew that it was expected of him to become head boy in the final year. He knew that he was expected to become Quidditch captain as well. He hated all of this. He found himself asking why did it have to be this way more often than not. Why did it have to be this way?  
  
He caught himself drifting to the paddock, the paddock in his dream last night. It was just so safe, so pleasant, so carefree. He remembered a time when things were carefree; it was before Hogwarts. When he was young when he had no worry of what he was to do. All that troubled him was that he wasn't allowed out at night. But besides that, everything was perfect. He missed that. He missed it so badly, he could almost taste his need for it.  
  
He missed last night.  
  
* * *  
  
The sun crept onto Harry's bed and warmed his face before he finally opened his eyes. His thoughts were still entangled in the visions he saw last night. What could that have been? Harry sat up and put on his discarded garments that he so willingly took off the night before. What could it have meant? It sounded and felt so real, everything about last night was real, Hermione's hair on his face and his chest, her scent and what he felt, was that proof?  
  
Should he ask them? Could he write Hermione about this? What was he to say? Dear Hermione, I had a sex dream last night, what do you think that could have meant? And by the way, did you have one about me too? I forgot to mention, Ron was there too, please let me know as soon as possible. Thanks, Harry. The idea was so stupid.  
  
Harry's reverie was disrupted by the sound of the telephone ringing. He heard Uncle Vernon's ruffled voice echo in the hall as he answered it in the kitchen below.  
  
"Vernon Dursley speaking," he said in a deep gruff voice of a man who had just come down for breakfast.  
  
"Absolutely NOT!" Uncle Vernon exclaimed; "Who do you think you are?" Harry's heart leapt, he remembered when Ron tried to call him over the telephone; this couldn't be the same thing; Harry tried to listen for more hints of who the phone call might be from. But no, he didn't hear Uncle Vernon's booming grumpy voice; Harry was almost sure that Uncle Vernon had put down the receiver, when Uncle Vernon continued.  
  
"Yes," Uncle Vernon replied, which was followed by a slam of the phone. Judging from the wheezing sound of air that came through Uncle Vernon's nostrils, Harry knew that this was a compromise; and Uncle Vernon very rarely compromised.  
  
A short span of silence was broken when the phone rang again.  
  
"Yes!" Uncle Vernon's hoarse voice took the receiver. "Yes!" again Uncle Vernon answered, again "Yes! At noon! Yes! Now off with you!" Uncle Vernon bellowed. This was followed by a slamming of the receiver on the phone's base.  
  
"You!" Uncle Vernon barked at Harry as he entered the kitchen.  
  
"Good morning to you too!" Harry whispered in his head. "Yes?" Harry said smiling, mocking Uncle Vernon.  
  
"I thought I told you never to give this number away to. to people like you!" he yelled.  
  
"But I had to, if I didn't they'd come over and I don't know if you'd like that," Harry replied, pleased with himself. It never occurred to him how very much Uncle Vernon resembled a purple prune when he yelled at him, until now.  
  
"Never ask them to call you again, no telephone etiquette whatsoever!" Uncle Vernon declared to Aunt Petunia, who nodded back at him. "I have never been so disgusted in my life!" he continued.  
  
Harry found a smile forming on his lips and moved to hide it. He was certain that when Uncle Vernon yelled at people in his office it wasn't insulting at all, in fact, they rather enjoyed it didn't they?  
  
"Be ready by noon tomorrow!" Uncle Vernon snapped at Harry. "Those dentists will be here by then." Harry didn't move a step closer to the kitchen table; he turned on his heel and walked out and into the hallway  
  
"I'm telling you Petunia, the are proud to have a freak daughter!" Uncle Vernon's voice resounded in the hall. Harry let out a laugh, he never saw Uncle Vernon speak with more motivation than drills. But now, he found his new favored issue, proud parents of witches.  
  
"He couldn't be that good, he sounded a bit silly," Uncle Vernon continued, "he kept pressing on the fact that they would be here by noon, said it over and over."  
  
" Revolting manner if you ask me," Aunt Petunia interjected.  
  
Harry fell on the steps, he tried not to laugh at how silly Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon were behaving, that it made him lose balance and lose his footing.  
  
But what did those phone calls mean, one of them of course must have been from the Granger's but what made Uncle Vernon mad? What made him compromise?  
  
To Be Continued.  
  
A/2: Okay weird chapter, I know. But I felt that I had to release some of my minds more stressful situations in here.  
  
A/N3: For the song, I think you sing it to the song of Greensleves. I was listening to it the other day and made up my own lyrics.  
  
Acknowledgements:  
  
Jennifer- Absolutely the best aren't you? You are soooo kind, oh and yeah, I am trying to be a little more careful. And that thing here? I hated it, in my favorite mall too! Damn the militia!  
  
Macy Gray- I'm glad you liked it, I tried to make it so that it wasn't so wrong, but still hot. I think I got it.  
  
Milkshake- Thanks! I love the magical air that they breathe too, It's so, well, magical. Hehe  
  
Odessa- Thank you! I think that I should, it isn't very ethical if I don't. Thanks for your kind words. None of that would be possible without my Beta, Jen.  
  
Anna_Chan - Harigatou! I hope this was soon enough for you. Hai! I love to write!  
  
Andrian - oh my God! I can't believe I got a review from you! You're one of the greats of this site! I'm so happy you find it interesting. I hope this chapter isn't too poignant, I intend to make the succeeding ones cling to the poetic side.  
  
ArchChancellor- Thanks! It is my first at fanfiction, although I wrote an original one a few months ago, I'm glad you liked it. By the way, are you a member of the smutty classroom, or ménage a trio? I think I saw you there.  
  
Sliver- Thanks! I intend to elaborate on that a little more in the coming chapters. In hope this is soon enough for you. And thanks for writing me.  
  
Roxanne- Thank you! I'm so glad you reviewed!  
  
Sandy- I hope this is soon enough for you. Why'd you have to ask? You know when I write! We go to the same school.  
  
Steph- Woah! You reviewed twice! Thank you! I had hoped that you would like the spell book stuff! Well the scene too. And it's okay, I'm not bothered by it at all.  
  
XOX- Thank you. I hope this isn't too much of a distraction, this almost throws off all the pathos feelings that they have.  
  
Sweetpup- Thanks! I'm so happy you reviewed! 


	8. Voyages and Receptions

Title: When Time Stands Still.  
  
Author: SantiMonreal  
  
Pairings: Harry, Hermione and Ron.  
  
Disclaimer: All characters belong to J.K. Rowling, published in her books, borrowed by me, to release some of my mind's stress; and more importantly, I'm not making any money off this.  
  
Summary: Harry tries to cope with the phantoms of his past. Ron deals with a future that he couldn't accept. Hermione draws bliss out of the present melancholic world.  
  
A/N:I don't think I can e-mail you guys for this chapter, so I'll just repost it a few days later, I'm too busy; my midterms are this week and the next. Sorry.  
  
Chapter 8:Voyage and Receptions  
  
Ron looked out of his window to the cloudless summer sky. The dry air came in and entered freely into his room. Still tired and bleary from last night's dream, he closed his eyes and stretched his arms as he sat down.  
  
One more day for 'our little prefect' to help mum around the kitchen, Ron thought. Why was it like this? Was he doomed to living his life in the shadow of his brothers? Ron looked on his bedside table. There lay his only outlet from the pressure that was exerted on him from being a Weasley, the notebook where he kept his thoughts.  
  
Ron grasped the tattered notebook in his hands; the spring that held it together was rusting along the edges. The familiar texture of the roughened cover was a comfort to his hands, bringing a tiny smile onto his lips. He always wrote a note to himself when he tired of living to the standard that his brothers set for him. He never told anyone how much he hated it, no one but Harry on that summer's night in the Astronomy Tower.  
  
Flipping through the pages, Ron smiled at how it seemed that every time he would write a new entry it would always be more poetic. Now it even seemed that he copied it off a book, as it was more recently written in the third person. He read silently to himself his most recent entry. Slowly he spoke in a voice that was almost a hiss.  
  
"Regret," he managed to say barely audibly.  
  
"He sits in the floor of his room alone, realizing the greatness of his failure. He tries to hold himself but there he finds no comfort. "The deed is done," he tells himself. The voices of his mentors mock him from his thoughts. There are no words of comfort he can say. All is lost. He looks about his room and sees luxuries that he is unworthy of. The eerie silence of the room brings shivers to his spine that emanate to the rest of his body. In a final breath, he leaps forward and falls to the floor, never to rise again, the blood flowing freely from his wrists."  
  
"Regret," again Ron muttered, sotto voce. He scanned over his sullied penmanship. He always wrote deep when he marked the book, as if to emphasize the asceticism of his feelings. His eyes rested on his notes, yet his mind was elsewhere. He remembered the night he wrote this entry. It wasn't a time that called for such a despondent writing. In fact it called for celebration. He wrote it the night he became a prefect. His mind drabbled, but he managed to catch every word uttered. Why did it say this? He did not know. He only knew that when everyone seemed to be cheerful, although he felt cheerful too that he was prefect, a greater part of him was sad. Sad beyond the saddest moment he had ever encountered. It seemed to warn him of a melancholic journey on which he was heading.  
  
Harry came into his mind; it was Harry that always seemed to understand him. Whenever people saw Harry, they always said how much he looked like James how James was the star of the Quidditch team, how James would always catch the snitch. But then again, Harry never knew James. Ron knew his brothers well, almost too well in fact. Harry did not feel the pressure of having to live up to his father's standard as much as Ron had felt the impact of his brothers lives on his. It was always strive to be the best. That was the cardinal rule with the Weasley's. Harry's lucky, Ron thought, nobody need tell him to play Quidditch; he loved the sport. No one would have to tell Harry how to behave, everybody knew of his parent's demise against the Dark Lord. They felt sorry for Harry. But things were different for Ron, he needed to be strong, he needed to be a prefect. Ron hated the pressure; Harry on the other hand did not feel it.  
  
"If only he was here," Ron caught himself saying. He wanted to speak to his best friend.  
  
"Ron!" Ginny called from the bottom of the stairs, interrupting Ron's reflection. "Mum needs help in the kitchen!" she called to him.  
  
"I'll be there!" Ron called down the stairs taking one look at the mirror. His eyes were misty, His mum and Ginny were in the house with him, but he felt more alone than ever.  
  
* * *  
  
Harry sat uneasily on the Dursley's living room couch. He kept looking at the clock, eleven thirty. Tension was high in the Dursley household. His things had been packed since he awoke. He had checked every nook and cranny of his bedroom three times for any spell books he might leave behind. All his things were at the bottom of the stairs; he couldn't wait to get out of Privet Drive.  
  
"They'll be driving of course?" Uncle Vernon grunted, he was wearing his favorite suit, he held a newspaper over his face, but he wasn't reading it; Harry knew his uncle tried to look as casual as possible.  
  
"Yes," Harry replied uneasily. He wasn't sure whether that had been the truth. He never saw what the Granger's used to pick up Hermione, but he was almost sure Hermione mentioned that they had a car once or twice.  
  
Aunt Petunia was wearing her favorite white dress, and nervously checking the room for any dirt. Dudley was sitting on the couch opposite of Harry, his hair was greased with gel, he kept glancing out the window tensely. Harry knew that they must have looked like a welcoming family to those who didn't know them very well. But Harry knew the Dursley's very well, too well in fact to know that this little show of best clothes and clean living rooms and foyers were just to intimidate those who came to their home.  
  
"Very well we can't have those people magic themselves in here and intrude into our privacy," Uncle Vernon said after a long pause.  
  
"They're dentists!" Harry retorted. "You know, those people who fix your teeth and take care of your oral hygiene." Uncle Vernon snorted, as if saying that witches and dentists were the same thing.  
  
"Maybe so, but people who mingle with people like you are all one and the same! Loons!" he spat back. Harry wanted to say something in return, but he chose to remain silent. A quarter before twelve, a green car pulled on the curb of the Dursley's home. From the untainted windows, Harry recognized the face of Mr. Granger. He rose and rushed to the foyer; the Dursley's followed suit.  
  
"Harry!" Hermione exclaimed as she threw her arms around him. "How have you been?" she asked him. Hermione's brown hair was dancing in the breeze that blew past as Harry opened the door to her. Hermione's smile disappeared when she saw Aunt Petunia smirk at her unapprovingly.  
  
"Good afternoon!" Mrs. Granger called from Hermione's back smiling at Aunt Petunia.  
  
"Good morning," Aunt Petunia answered indifferently, checking her watch. "It's only a quarter before twelve."  
  
"Boy!" Uncle Vernon yelled from Aunt Petunia's side. "Get your things, and be off with the lot!"  
  
"Hermione, why don't you help Harry with his trunk," Mrs. Granger said, clearly shocked at the Dursley's behavior and reception. Clearly Hermione had not told her of how they reacted to anything that deals with their nephew. Harry and Hermione carried his trunk along with a suitcase while Mrs. Granger took Hedwig's cage. Very little was said from the Dursley's door to the Granger's car. Once everything was loaded into the Granger's trunk, which was getting full, as Hermione also had her trunks and books on in the rear end of the space wagon; Harry took his seat beside Hermione behind the Granger's.  
  
"It's so nice to see you Harry!" Mrs. Granger said looking back at them, turning her head. "How has your summer been so far?"  
  
Harry wanted to say that the Dursley's were terrible and that he was more than happy to leave, but he stopped himself. "Nothing much has happened in the past few days," he said.  
  
"So, do you know how to get Ron's house Harry?" Mr. Granger asked him thru the rear view mirror.  
  
"I don't exactly know how to get there," Harry replied, looking to Hermione for answers.  
  
"I have the directions Dad," Hermione called from beside Harry. "I know how to get there, Ron and I discussed this during the last year and again before the vacations," she answered him as if it was tiring her for Mr. Granger asked her ad nauseam.  
  
"He's just teasing you dear," Mrs. Granger told her knowingly.  
  
Harry looked at the houses as they flew past his window; his thoughts of leaving Privet Drive were finally realized. Now the problem was that he couldn't believe he was actually leaving. He kept looking out the window, seeing the cats in the corner, next to the dumpster in the park, the trees that shed their leaves although it was summer. It was quite odd really as Harry saw Hermione beside him. She was there, at his side not at arms length away from him and yet his thoughts took him elsewhere. He thought of the very strange vision he had of Hermione nights before.  
  
"Did you hear from Ron?" Hermione asked him leaning forward. Harry was pulled out of his reflection by the same scent that he had dreamed of, strawberries and roses. He closed his eyes for a moment and re-opened them, to find Hermione still staring at him and awaiting his response. Embarrassed by the awkward moment that had just passed, Harry shook his head furiously.  
  
"No."  
  
Hermione lay back on her seat, her mind obviously wandering. Harry too, looked out of the car's window, counting lampposts as they passed. He saw Hermione look at him with the same expression he saw she had the night of his vision. His face flushed with nervousness. Did she know? he thought. Perhaps she could tell he was thinking of something that was bothering him, from the sweat that formed in his brow or the stolen glances he took of her, that she caught, or the avoidance of her eyes. Can she tell?  
  
Hermione reached forward and put her hand on Harry's leg. Now Harry was certain she noticed how tense he was. His leg nearly kicked when she touched him. He stared at her hand, then at her arm the little blond hairs that that lay there, up to the empty space where the forearm met the upper arm, and on to her lovely formed and delicate shoulders; her hair dangling loosely atop of them. His eyes followed the strands of hair that fell past the clavicle and onto her breasts. Those lovely breasts that he so wanted to hold, to grasp. Then he followed her neck and finally his eyes found their way to hers. She too was watching him, following him as his eyes flowed over her body. Harry looked away; he felt the heat rush to his face, he was humiliated to exploit her like that. Hermione took her hand off Harry's leg.  
  
Harry did not say anything. His face was still a bright crimson from his embarrassment. What the bloody hell was he thinking? Not a word passed between them, they pulled off the high way and were now on a dirt road. Harry again looked out and studied the farmland and vegetation, which seemed to interest him.  
  
"Which way?" Mr. Granger asked as they approached a fork in the road.  
  
"You're supposed to take a left." Hermione replied. "Drive straight, until you see a huge oak on the right, next to a group of evergreens," she continued. Harry looked at her, but still said nothing, he felt awkward to even ask her if they were near. They appeared to be in the middle of a very dense forest. Harry heard the buzzing of the insects as they passed. "There!" Hermione said pointing to a huge oak that the road swerved around.  
  
"I see it dear," Mr. Granger said. "What then?"  
  
"You're supposed to drive into it," Hermione responded.  
  
"Are you sure dear?" Mrs. Granger asked her, looking frightened.  
  
"Yes, it says right here," Hermione said holding out a piece of folded parchment. "'Go through the huge oak' See?" she said handing her mother the parchment. "Wait! We might feel like crashing for a moment but it isn't that, just keep driving Dad, okay?" Hermione told her parents nervously, sounding as though she was not sure if they believed her.  
  
A few years ago this would have been very surprising to Harry, but now it was just another day in the wizarding world. Harry looked out at the oak, which now seemed vaster than ever.  
  
"Hold on to your seats, this might be rough," her father called to them from the front seat. Mrs. Granger had her eyes shut, Harry didn't know why, but Hermione's parent's reaction to the idea of driving into the tree, was making him nervous too. He was sure Ron knew what he was talking about, but it could be possible that this was the wrong tree, as there was many evergreens scattered throughout the woods. Swallowing his shame, he turned to Hermione, who was still looking forward out of the car and at the oak. When she saw him look at her, she turned to him immediately putting her hand in the space between them. Harry was about to ask her if she was sure about the tree, instead he asked her something else.  
  
"Can I hold your hand?" Harry blurted out. He didn't expect to say that, but when he saw Hermione's hand lay there on the seats, he wanted to take it, to caress it, to feel it in his own hand. Hermione smiled nervously, but she said nothing; instead, she took his hand from his lap. Harry didn't know what it was, but something in him relaxed, the fear of crashing was still present, but a greater part of him seemed content with the moment that was present in the Granger's car.  
  
The road was getting rougher; they were feet away from the oak. And then there was a crashing sensation, and it seemed that Harry was pulled from his seat. Mrs. Granger let out a small scream. But as soon as they were no longer in the woods, they were inside what seemed to be a cave. The light was poor in the cave as it came only from the opening, a spec at the mouth of the cave, from the sun outside.  
  
As they reached the end of the cave, Harry was blinded by the sunlight that came from all around them.  
  
"Drive toward the road, Dad," Hermione said as she started looking around too. They were in a field of grass, and somewhere to their right lay a dirt road that led to the village where the Weasley's lived. "We're a little outside the village," She said, "Ottery st. Catchpole. Dad pull off the main road and take a right here, then go straight ahead." Then they saw it, a lopsided sign near the entrance, which read: The Burrow.  
  
Harry looked at the home for the third time in his five years of knowing the Weasley's. It looked like a very roughly cut stone, with several rooms added here and there so that it was now several stories high and so crooked, it looked like it had been held up with magic (which it probably was, Harry thought). Four or five chimneys poked out of the red roof, around the front door, lay a jumble of old rusty cauldrons. Several fat brown chickens were poking around in the front yard.  
  
Harry looked at the top window of the house; he knew it to be Ron's room. He finally took in a deep breath and sighed. Things were going to be better now, he thought.  
  
A/N1: Sorry it took so long for an update, I didn't have much time to write at all, plus my beta went on a vacation, so I waited a little while for her to come back.  
  
A/N2: Midterms are on this week, they lead all the way to the next since most of our exams are practical, they require long periods of taking them. Expect that I upload sooner after the tests...  
  
A/N3: I didn't drop my subjects; you guys made me think and realize a lot of things about college life. Thanks for that.  
  
Acknowledgements:  
  
Jennifer- you're simply the best! Thanks, you're like my confidante, you nothing short of a great person. I'm happy to have you beta me, and happier to ask you for advice. Thanks!  
  
Roxanne- Hi! Yes I noticed that too, and believe me I've debated about it once or twice in my head. But the bottom line is I can't write slash, I don't know how... But there will probably be moments that they are together and comforting each other, just knot slash...  
  
Macy Gray- I hope this chapter answers your question... is it romantic? You're the first person to say that... hehehe.  
  
Steph- Thank you, I try to make the situations as real as possible. I hope this one continues in the same sense...  
  
Odessa- Here's more! I didn't drop them at all, I'm glad I took your advice.  
  
Hpfreak18- It's okay, (I couldn't imagine life without internet) I hope you like this chapter!  
  
Andrian- Thanks! I never thought of it that way before, sweet coming of age. And I do love your published work. I just haven't been able to review it for a while, I'm in school almost twelve hours every day now, But after the midterms, I'll be back to normal...  
  
Sliver- Muchias gracias señor! I hope this chapter answers the questions to your answers...  
  
Milkshake- I hope that it did explain a few things. I really appreciate it when my readers review, and as much as possible I try to write back and answer their queries.  
  
Anon- I didn't quite get that...  
  
Jerome- Thanks man, This has been the longest time it took for me to update. Sorry.  
  
ShyHi- I just did, Although it took a while didn't it? Thanks for reviewing.  
  
Amulet— hi! Thanks for thinking so, this next chapter was actually written a long time ago, I just recently realized that I wasn't able to post it here at FF.net. sorry to all of you guys! 


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